Piece of Cake
by catchingbrokenglass
Summary: Cammie was an average girl. Usually, she secretly longed for stunning beauty and those stolen glances. But today she wasn't a twenty-five year old girl hoping for love. No. Today she was what she had trained her whole life to be. A mission with Zach, a bomb, a terrorist, and a tragic unexpected twist. Rated T Warning- Not what you're used to. Will she save the day? We shall see!


**AN- its not what you're used to, and if you don't know what I mean, read. You'll see for yourself. Review what you think. I accept criticism and flames. Flame away. This obviously doesn't belong to me, credit to Ally Carter! Consider this disclaimed.**

Cammie was an average girl. Normally, she hated her dishwater blonde hair and her regular brown eyes. On any other day, she would have winced a little every time a good-looking guy didn't bother to give her a second glance. It was the kind of thing she was used to, and she wished she wasn't. Usually, she secretly longed for stunning beauty and those stolen glances. Today though, she took advantage of her imperfections. Today she wasn't a twenty-five year old girl hoping for love. No. Today she was what she had trained her whole life to be.

Walking down the streets of Seattle, Cammie memorized the license plates of every single car that passed, just for fun. She counted the security cameras she walked by and overheard five different conversations in three different languages just because she could. When she got bored, she recited Moby Dick in her head, the book she had memorized at age seven. All the while she kept the target in view. Cammie learned at a very young age that tailing might well be the hardest task that a spy could be assigned. Very few from the CIA have perfected the technique, and Cammie happened to be one of them. When following a target, you don't follow them like a string. It should be like a rubber band, the distance shortening and lengthening naturally. You shouldn't be worried about being seen, as long as you are not noticed. This is when Cammie's average looks became an advantage.

Deciding to take a risk, Cammie closed the space between her and the target. Only a few feet away, Cammie held her breath and minimized her moments. Subtly, her hand inched forward and rested the bug on the surface of the targets jacket. Confidence surged through Cammie, as she decided to take one more dangerous chance. She surreptitiously took a tracking device from her pocket, and reached to slip it into the targets backpack. At the same exact moment sirens pierced her ear, and she glanced at the busy road. Police officers on motorcycles were escorting sleek black limos through the streets. The crowd turned and stared. Cammie, taking advantage of the distraction, placed the object into his bag. Then, being the chameleon she is, dissolved into the crowd.

Turning the corner, Cammie spotted the white van parked alongside the road. Opening the passenger seat, Cammie hopped in. She turned to her partner in crime and best friend whom she met during their training.

"What was that about?" Cammie asked, beginning to dig through the box of stakeout food.

"Some international conference," muttered Zach, typing furiously on his state-of-the-art computer. "Learn anything new about the target?"

Cammie shrugged her shoulders. "He's just a terrorist trying not to look like a terrorist, so you know, the usual." She took bite out of a muffin, "I planted a bug and tracking device though. Do we have audio yet?"

A muffled scratchy voice escaped the computer, answering Cammie's question.

Zach squinted, trying to catch the foreign words. "What is that? Russian?"

Cammie listened intently, "Yup, with a twinge of German accent. I can't make out their words very well."

Zach strained, "I can. Sort of" He listened for a few more seconds, "He's talking to someone on the phone, something about delivering a package."

"Did he say what's in it?"

Zach shook his head, "no, but whatever it is, it isn't good. We need to get that bag."

"Okay," Said Cammie casually, "I planted the tracking device, anyways so just tell me where its heading and I'll follow"

Zach nodded, "Okay, but be careful, these guys aren't called terrorists for nothing."

Taking one last bite of her muffin, Cammie stepped out of the van and popped a comms unit into her ear.

"Piece of cake."

Ten minutes later, Cammie was still wandering the streets of Seattle, with Zach in her ear.

"Okay," said Zach, "take a right, and the backpack should be there with the target"

Cammie's eyes searched the crowd, until they finally found the bland black backpack.

"Found it"

"Good," Zach said, "now just get the backpack I don't care how, just do it. I have a bad feeling about this."

Storm clouds loomed over the rainy city of Seattle. The dread Cammie felt made her fear it was harbinger of the future. Shaking off her worries, she continued on, closing the distance between her and the man with the bag. Just as she was a few yards away, the target took a sharp turn into an alley to the right. Cammie stood there, counting to ten in her head, and then followed.

The lights in alley were dim and ominous, making it hard for her to see the figure that stood meters away, his back turned to Cammie.

Pulling out a gun from the small of her back, Cammie held it up, "CIA, don't move!"

The target spun around in surprise, shock vivid in his dark eyes.

"Drop the bag," demanded Cammie, taking slow long step forward. The man didn't listen, instead, he darted towards one of the walls enclosing the alley; a wall that had a ladder leading up to the roof of the building.

"Crap," said Cammie, jogging towards the ladder, the gun still in her hand, "Why do these idiots always run?"

Scaling the ladder rapidly, Cammie could hear Zach yelling in her ear, "What's happening? What's going on?"

"Not right now Zach," muttered Cammie as she saw the target finally made it to the roof, "I'm kind of busy."

A few seconds later, Cammie reached the last rung, and popped herself onto the roof.  
The target was just a few yards away, running as fast as he could with the heavy backpack. Cammie leapt forward, tackling him and pinning him to the ground. She was too light though, or he was too heavy, because the next thing she knew, her back was against the concrete surface. The target was on top, his rough hand wrapping around her thin neck. As Cammie struggled for breath, the target swung his fist into the side of her head, sending her comms unit and any communication with Zach skidding across the ground. Her brain became fuzzy, suffering from the lack of oxygen. Cammie's vision became a mosaic of black and white. With her last fading effort, Cammie freed her hands and brought them onto the targets head. In one swift movement, his head turned, and the sickening noise of a bone snapping filled the air. The target's heavy body fell onto her limp body. Regaining her strength, she pushed the dead body off of her and refocused on her mission.

Slipping the backpack from his shoulder, she held it still and unzipped it. She sighed as she took in the scene in front of her. A bomb laid there, in a puzzle of red and white wires, the timer counting down from five minutes. Flashbacks ran through her mind as she remembered the sirens and the black sleek limos. They were going to bomb the conference.

A smug smile spread across Cammie's face. She had stopped what could have potentially been an international disaster. Taking out the knife she always carried in her sock, she began to carefully cut the selected wires that held the bomb together. Suddenly, Cammie's well-trained ears caught sounds in the alley below. Silently, she stood up; taking her gun that had been discarded earlier. Cammie stepped cautiously toward the side of the building, looking down into the alley. Cammie could make out a lone figure standing in the ominous lighting.

Abruptly, the figure's head snapped up and caught a glimpse of Cammie. Within seconds, bullets started flying up towards Cammie, who stepped to the side, dodging the bullet's deathly path. Knowing that the figure she saw must have been the terrorist the target was supposed to deliver the bomb to, Cammie didn't hesitate in returning the fire. Moving to the right, out of the shooters range, she moved to the edge of the roof once more and took a few shots. Soon, the figure down below fell forward, and ceased to move again. Cammie laughed to herself, shaking her head at how easy this had been. She returned to the bomb.

Cammie couldn't help it; she was getting cocky. As the bomb counted down, Cammie didn't rush to disarm it. In fact, she cut the wires carelessly. She had disabled even more complicated bombs than this one in even more stressful situations. There were three minutes left on the clock, and yet Cammie's confident demeanor didn't fade. This would be a story that she would brag about when she got back to headquarters. It would be the story of how she brought down a terrorist attack single handedly.

Cutting the last wire, with two minutes left to spare, Cammie heard the click of disarmament. Cammie calmly stood up, and made way down the ladder, hopping back down into the alley. The terrorist who she had shot earlier lay face down in a pool of blood. Out of curiosity, she turned the man over, desperate to see what terrorist she would be able to boast about bringing down. She expected to see America's Most Wanted or a criminal who was all over the papers. Instead, she gasped in disbelief as she took in Zach's bloodied face.

**AN- I'm not gonna apologize, and don't say you weren't warned. Leave a review, even if its yelling at me for what i just did. Also, this was originally with different characters but I decided to give it a try on FanFiction. I love Zach, I do not wish death upon him. Just saying. If your confused just leave a review or PM me. I thought something new had to be added amongst all this cliche cheesy same old same old stories with no story lines or plot.**

**-CatchingBrokenGlass**


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